Una Notte a Napoli
by Kuro Shiro Kami Chan
Summary: A little somewhat dark one-shot about unrequited feelings and feelings that are too strong. Italy questions what love is and what his relationships to Germany and America really are and what they mean to him. One shot, no intended pairings or any pairing fluffiness, just some reflections and inner thoughts of this one character. Enjoy if you like these kinds of stories


**This is a one-shot about unrequited/unnoticed love and a certain Italian trying to get over his feelings.**

**Although I admit I know this feeling a bit too well lately…**

**Una Notte a Napoli**

_It's been like this for quite some time now…_

The ding sounded from the computer, notifying him that he got a message through Steam. Germany had signed up for the service in order to play games but the Italian simply used it as a way to talk to his friends and perhaps occasionally play Terraria or Team Fortress… He clicked on the blinking window and looked at the box of text:

Germany: Sorry for the delay… I was busy…

Finding himself blushing lightly he sighed softly, putting the computer on his lap and typing his own message to respond.

Italia: No, it's alright… I know you're busy… You always work so hard. So it's ok.

Receiving a response right away he was anxious to respond, trying to wait a few minutes so not to seem too clingy. He responded after a minute, unable to control his fingers. He typed and typed, repeating a conversation that was becoming all the more frequent.

Germany: I'm sorry if I was ignoring you.

Italia: No it's fine. I know you're busy with a lot of things. But I'm fine. I'm just glad…

Germany: ?

Italia: I'm glad I can talk to you…

Germany: I'm still somewhat busy, so I'll apologize in advance if I respond late to a message…

Italia: No really, it's fine…

His heart began to beat as it always did when these strange conversations occurred… He didn't know why but this would always happen. But whether he liked it or not it always would. His heart beating, his face slightly red and voices in his mind fighting with one another and talking about things like love and how this love might be unrequited.

Italia: It's fine… But when you're free do you want to do anything?

Germany: Do anything? Maybe we can play Terraria?

Italia: Si, that sounds good :D

Germany: Ok… But until then, BRB.

Italia: Yes sir! :D

The smiley emoticon was just a façade because inside he was doing more than simply smiling. On the inside he was crying yet smiling while also cheering about what a wonderful feeling this was while also cursing about how this feeling was going to kill him if he didn't do something about it.

He changed his Steam status to 'Busy' despite not actually working or doing anything important. But he was going to be busy… Just not doing any of the work he probably should've been doing…

Putting his laptop on the other side of the bed and making it face away from him he lied down flat on his stomach, head not even supported by pillows. He sighed at first, closing his eyes and scratching his scalp and wondering why he was feeling this way yet again. Then the feeling started to travel down into his lower regions and he let out a groan.

_I don't want to have to do this all the time… What's going to happen to me if I can't figure out what's going on with me?_

He loosened his belt so perhaps that would make his vital regions relax but it seemed to do the opposite. He continued lying down on his stomach, this time covering his head with a huge pillow and trying desperately not to think about anything. However his erection seemed to get more persistant and his thoughts always seemed to wander from the most random of subjects back to Germany. Why he always thought of this nation was a mystery to him and why he felt the way he did toward the nation was something he couldn't explain even if you'd asked him… It was a longing… A desire he couldn't fufill.

He took his phone and started listening to a particular song he found himself listening to at times like this. Turning on his back and turning on his phone in turn, he looked through his music until he found the song 'Una Notte a Napoli' by Pink Martini. He put his earphones in and let the music try to distract his mind as was always intention… But in the end, his heart was still beating and he felt a fever coming on for no reason. He'd replay the song again and again only for thoughts about Germany to return over and over again. His erection became more prominent and started causing him pain… So he had to get rid of it the hard way…

Afterward he attempted to drown out his sorrows in the shower, nice hot water, the curtains shut and the door locked. Plenty of privacy and intimacy to take care of this annoying throbbing feeling that he didn't want to have. He sat down in the middle of the bathtub, warm water hitting him from the showerhead up above. He washed his arms and chest with soap as if that would clean his mind and all the filth within it.

He felt oily water running down his forehead from his scalp and the tips of his hair. And as all the soap from his chest washed away he felt his hands wander downward.

_I'm sorry Germany… I feel so sick for doing this…_

And after he'd taken care of his little problem and had the mess wash away with soap and hot water he found tears forming in his tear ducts and he crossed his arms feeling alone and hopeless. He shut the water off, wiping the droll from his mouth and got up. Wrapping himself in a towel and sitting on the toilet seat, he looked up at the skylight and felt like he was out of his mind.

_Why am I so sick…? Why am I doing these things? It's like he's making me do these things…_

He slowly put his clothes on and got out of the bathroom. Going back to his computer to see if he got any new messages from Germany… Nothing…

Immediately after he changed his status to 'Online', America started messaging him.

American_Hero: Hey Italy! What's up?

Italia: Hello America… How are you?

American_Hero: Fine. How are you? *hugs*

Italia: … I've been feeling weird lately…

American_Hero: I'm sorry

Italia: No, it's not you. It's me. I've just been feeling weird and I've been thinking about a lot of things lately… I don't know why. I guess I have a lot of feelings…

American_Hero: Doesn't sound like the Italy I know… Something wrong?

Italia: I'm sorry… *hugs* It really isn't you… It's all my feelings… I feel really confused…

American_Hero: Well, can I do anything to help?

Italia: …

No messages for 10 minutes after that.

American_Hero: Look… If it's me you can say so. I want to make you feel comfortable too…

Italia: …

American_Hero: …

American_Hero: Im sorry…

American_Hero: I love you

It was strange he had to admit… Having America love him so much and not being able to give the love he felt back to him. America confessed to Italy that he had a crush on him and feeling so flattered, the Italian accepted. At the time, Italy thought he was getting over Germany but months passed and he began to feel strangely toward both of them…

He began to question whether he could ever get over Germany or feel the same way America did toward him. He was beyond conflicted… His thoughts were haunting him day by day with no end in sight. He sighed. He picked up his phone and called America.

"Am-America? I felt like calling you…"

"Italy, you ok? You sound nervous. Should I fly over there?"

"I'm alright… I've just been feeling a little awkward…"

"Italy… Please just let me take care of you… I want to make sure you're alright. I want you to be happy."

He stood silent, letting out a sigh. "I know, I'm alright. I just feel a little shy…"

"How about I go over there and we can watch Lisa and The Devil? I won't even bring the House of Exorcism version I made, we can watch your version, order Dominos and eat chocolate lava cakes all night. Doesn't that sound fun? Time zones aside, it would be fun, wouldn't it?"

"I'm just not in the mood. I'm sorry."

America sighed over the phone. "Fine. This day is fucked… I'll text you later after I'm done with my meeting. Bye." He hung up rudely, leaving Italy alone and feeling even worse than he felt before.

_No matter what, I can't seem to find love anywhere. It's either too much or too little, too cruel or too blind… I'm being beat up on the inside and out… I don't know what to do. I just want someone to love me back._

He lay down on his side, hugging a large pillow in the place of a live person. He needed to be cuddled and loved by someone who genuinely loved him back. But it seemed like the people he even thought he could love were either too blind to see his true emotions or they loved him too much to the point where it seemed almost controlling. It was a special kind of hurt that made him confused. He thought about the possibilities of taking action day after day. The actions he thought of varied depending on how he felt that particular time but usually ended up being 1 or 3 things: confessing his love to Germany, breaking things off with America and imaging futures with both of them in various relationship states.

Nothing seemed to satisfy him. If polyamory were an option that could solve the problem but he knew it was pretty much impossible for anything like that to happen. He didn't know what he wanted and even though he did want certain things he had no idea how to obtain them or if they were even possible to obtain.

He listened to 'Una Notte a Napoli' again on a loop, letting the music flood his eardrums and letting his imagination run wild. His emotions were in a ballroom straight out of the movie Anastasia and dancing around with multiple people. At first this felt amazing, everyone was dancing in time and swirling around like the exquisite guests they were but then Germany and America entered the ballroom and his emotions began to turn into panic and high anxiety. His emotions were tugged by the wrists and he could feel tears running down the sides of his face as the wonderful fantasy turned into a nightmare of confusion and trying to find love in the right person. Whatever 'love' was…

_Quanto tempo puo durare? Quante notti de sognare? Quante ore, quanti giorni? Quando ami da morire? Chiudi gli occhi e non pensare. Il tempo passa, l'amore scompare..._

The final dance… Couldn't be danced for fear of what might happen. For fear that he or those he loved would break physically, mentally, emotionally, perhaps even more in a way he couldn't comprehend at the moment.

One night in Naples would be nice… If only a night such as that were obtainable…

**Short story, one-shot (or at least it's intended to be a one-shot). I ended up putting a lot of my feelings into it. 'Una Notte a Napoli' is a song by the band Pink Martini and I find myself listening to it whenever I have relationship blues. So that explains the title. Hope you enjoyed this story despite the fact it was a little dark.**


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